


Unexpected Smiles

by Hildigunnur



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, Femslash, Romance, The Quidditch Pitch: The Ladies Room
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-10
Updated: 2007-05-10
Packaged: 2018-10-26 13:17:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,590
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10787472
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hildigunnur/pseuds/Hildigunnur
Summary: It feels like exploring the unknown to be pursuing Pansy Parkinson.





	Unexpected Smiles

**Author's Note:**

> This story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015.
> 
> Written for Witch Winter on LJ back in 2006. Beta-ed by Sarka.

The small table in the corner of the badly lit pub was strewn with empty glasses and bottles. While it might have been taken as a sign of bad service at that particular establishment, it was also a clear sign that the people sitting around the table were determined to drink themselves into complete stupor.

Harry and Ron were doing it for the same reason millions of twenty-something males around the world get pissed every weekend. Unfortunately, as much as she might have wished to, Hermione couldn't use that excuse.

"Don't tell me you are one of those depressed drunks?" Ron said as he scooted closer to her.

"No, I'm not a depressed drunk," she said slightly indignant. "I'm just thinking. Maybe I don't feel like laughing as obnoxiously loudly as you two."

Harry looked at her, obviously trying to appear to be scrutinizing her but kind of failing.

"Come on; tell us what's on your mind. We are your best friends, you know".

It made her smile. The vague feeling of recklessness that often comes with being drunk had crept upon her and she wanted to tell them.

"I'm just missing someone."

A momentary confusion flashed across their faces but then they both took the bait; hook, line and sinker.

"Oh, Hermione ... don't tell me. You finally got laid?"

"Do you ever think with the brain in your head, Harry?" said Hermione, trying her best to look cross but feeling more amused that in his crudeness he had hit the nail on its head.

Ron was quiet, darting his eyes between them. She suspected he was dying of curiosity but was suppressing it, probably because she'd gone off at him before when he got too curious about her sex life. But it was simply the occupational hazard of being a lesbian with two guys as her best friends.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm a horny guy who leers at every red-blooded female I see. But please, tell me."

Taking pity on the boys she did what Harry had asked her to do. Naturally, she left out certain details; like the identity of the witch in question and all details of the sex itself.

There were limits and she absolutely didn't want Harry and Ron wanking to the image of her and Pansy Parkinson fucking.

****

The New Year had started with an unusual chill. There was a thin layer of ice over the pavement and the cold was bone-chilling. Hermione gave silent thanks to Molly Weasley for knitting her the scarf she was wearing - it was rather convenient when she was sent out on the office-supply run. Amazing how quickly four people could go through huge stacks of parchment.

And of course in being reluctant to go and pressed for time, she'd forgot to put a sticking charm on the shoes and kept slipping ungracefully all the way to Scribbulus, though it didn't start to become a real problem until she was on her way from the shop with an enormous stack of writing materials and a dozen ink pots. What she wouldn't have given to have been able levitate the stuff back to the Ministry but the crowds in Diagon Alley prevented that.

So, naturally, a disaster struck. Well, it had been a disaster at the time.

As it would have been an inhuman feat to be able to balance the load, walk on the slippery surface and not bump into anyone, she naturally collided head on with the first person she attempted to pass when she had left the shop.

The ink pots crashed to the ground, splashing them with ink, as well as the parchment which had been sent flying over the street. Hermione managed to keep her feet while the other person had fallen flat on her face.

When Hermione realised who she had knocked down she immediately felt that her day just couldn't get much worse. The person currently dusting rubbish off her expensive wool cloak and scowling at the ink stains was Pansy Parkinson, someone Hermione had regularly referred to as "an utter cow" when they had been in Hogwarts.

Bracing herself for a threat of some kind at best and an Unforgivable curse at worst, Hermione straightened her back and looked Pansy straight in the eyes.

Though Pansy didn't look ready to kill her - rather, she seemed apologetic and started Summoning the parchment from the ground. Shocked, Hermione followed suit and began wondering whether Pansy been hit with a curse during the war that had caused a personality change.

"I'm so sorry about this. I wasn't watching where I was going," said Pansy when she handed Hermione a stack of wet parchment. "I hope those aren't completely ruined, though I think you'll have to get new ink-pots. I'm happy to pay you for those."

Hermione, who was completely speechless, accepted the stack and gave Pansy something that she hoped resembled a smile.

"Nice seeing you, you look well Hermione. Hopefully we'll see each other soon." Pansy turned slowly on her heel and gave her a little, cheery wave over her shoulder.

Back at the office, Hermione absentmindedly cast a drying spell on the parchment and wondered whether there was some Dark Magic that could cause such change in people. Pansy Parkinson turning out to be a nice and decent human being was doing damage to her view of the world. Perhaps she ought to take her own advice, something she had preached to Harry and Ron, that life generally comes in shades of grey and not merely in black and white.

A couple of days later she had the opportunity to discover whether it had simply been a fluke that Pansy had been gracious over the collision, or if Hermione had really to adjust to a different mental image of Pansy.

Being in no mood to cook she had gone to the Leaky Cauldron for a bite to eat and there was Pansy, sitting alone, and seemingly having a meal by herself.

There were moments like this that brought forth Hermione's Gryffindor nature; a dangerous mix of guts and insatiable curiosity.

"Hello, may I sit with you?"

Hermione was pretty sure that her mind had gone completely blank in the couple of seconds it took Pansy to look up, smile and point at the free chair at her table.

"Nice to see you, Hermione. What brings you here? Are you meeting someone?"

"No, I'm grabbing a bite to eat and then I saw you and wanted to apologise for the other day." Hermione heard herself saying these words but they seemed to stream out of her mouth without ever forming in her head. What the hell was wrong with her?

For some miraculous reason, Pansy wasn't looking at her like she was the raving lunatic she felt like. Pansy was actually smiling at her, an expression Hermione couldn't remember her ever wearing while they were at Hogwarts. That might be because she hadn't been keen on Pansy smiling at her at the time, but oddly, that appeared to have changed now.

Gradually she felt more at ease and their conversation became more fluid. With keen interest, Hermione observed a touch of sadness and frustration in Pansy's face while she described her rather recent break-up with Draco Malfoy.

In fact Pansy seemed to be unbelievably relieved to be able talk about this with someone who knew Draco but wasn't a close acquaintance with him. And Hermione found herself as an eager listener, not because she took satisfaction in Malfoy's flaws being described in detail, though it was certainly entertaining to say the least.

This new-found camaraderie of theirs was extended into more impromptu lunch and dinner dates. They seemed to keep bumping into one another with growing frequency and Hermione started entertaining ideas that Pansy was trying to meet her as much as she was trying to meet Pansy.

The realisation that she fancied Pansy came on a cold and wet Wednesday morning at work, when she found herself checking the time every five minutes, seeing if it wasn't time to head out to the Leaky Cauldron for lunch.

It scared her how these feelings had crept up on her, probably because this had never happened before. Especially not after she learned she preferred women; it had mostly been quick fucks and one which turned out to be not so quick but a six months long relationship with an insane Belgian witch who drank like a sponge and shagged like a champion.

Being friends with the object of her affections was simply something that Hermione was really rusty in and she was even rustier in trying to decipher whether Pansy was simply overly friendly or actually flirting.

So, yet again, she had drawn on her Gryffindor guts and taken the bull by the proverbial horns; she simply had properly pursued Pansy.

****

Taking care of only drinking one shot of Firewhisky at the bar for a bit of liquid courage, Hermione fiddled with the small gift in her hand. _So that was what the boys had been moaning about when they were about to go on a first date. No wonder they complained._

This was absolutely nerve-racking. It was one thing to plan "chance" meetings and pseudo-flirt. There was always the chance that Pansy wouldn't show up, that she had realised the sub-text of their conversations recently, that she was now telling someone - her mother, Draco Malfoy, a passing goblin - that a disgusting mudblood and a girl at that had been coming on to her. Not that Hermione felt self-aware about being Muggleborn, she rather feared that the new, charming Pansy would make way for the old, nasty Pansy from Hogwarts.

Just as she was turning around to order something from the bar to cure this bout of nerves, she saw Pansy approach, and all thoughts of an extra drink evaporated.

This had never happened to her before. No one had made her breath catch in her throat like this and honestly she had thought it was an utter cliché until now.

That she was even too stunned to make stupid mental comments about pug-faced Pansy having turned into a swan like this was some kind of a Cinderella fairy tale.

"Hi, you look really nice." Pansy's voice startled Hermione out of her daze and it was a miracle that she had gained enough control over her mind and vocal cords not only to greet her back but to compliment her, making her beam and therefore even prettier.

****

Hermione had always detested descriptors like _enchanted evening_ and _seductive soirée_ but her currently romance-addled mind was running them over as she and Pansy walked around the West End, enjoying the refreshing cold after a great meal.

Asking her whose place they should go to was something that Hermione didn't dare. A bit of novelty to be telling the truth; she never had any qualms asking this before but it was impossible for her to suspend her disbelief at the fact that she had just spent a lovely dinner date with Pansy, a date that had all the marks of a romantic date.

When she turned around to face her, the yellow light of a street lamp bathed Pansy, and Hermione couldn't help sighing.

"I was wondering, I'm getting a bit chilly here, ... erm, would you like to come to my place?"

She was so adorable, looking at her from under her black eyelashes, with the cold tinting her face. It made the acceptance of her offer even sweeter.

As soon as Pansy closed the doors to her flat after they had Apparated, Hermione couldn't wait. The signs were all there and ignoring them was wrong. Drawing a deep breath, she took Pansy's face between her hands and touched her lips to her like she was trying not to scare her too much.

Pansy wasn't scared. Breathing a soft "Finally!" into the kiss, she wrapped her arms around Hermione's neck, drawing them deeper into the kiss, sliding her tongue into her mouth, coaxing her to be more aggressive.

Hermione didn't feel like being patient and moved one hand to unfasten Pansy's cloak, still holding her face with the other, caressing her cheek, sucking her tongue, enticing little whimpers from her.

As Pansy's cloak fell loose and Hermione was about to hitch up her blouse, she moved the hand away.

"Not here, let's go inside."

It was only then that Hermione realised that they had been standing in the hallway and Pansy was now leading her straight into the bedroom. She briefly wondered if she should fall to her knees and thank Merlin that they had obviously been on the same wavelength but all conscious thoughts evaporated as Pansy turned to her, having swiftly got rid of her cloak, blouse and brassiere, her chest completely bare.

Within a breath, Hermione had dropped her own cloak and closed the distance between them. She cupped her breasts, feeling the silky skin and brushing the nipples with her thumbs.

"You're beautiful..." she managed to gasp before sinking into a kiss and feeling Pansy smiling into it.

In flurry, they discarded their clothes until they were both completely naked and kneeling on the bed. Hermione still had her hands on Pansy's breasts, longing to taste them but still disbelieving that this was really happening.

But if this was a truly erotic dream, she wasn’t going to stand idly by. Without hesitation she bent down to take Pansy's nipple in her mouth, flicked it with her tongue and savoured the moan that followed. Licking, grazing, flicking. Stroking, kneading. She kept her mouth and left hand occupied by Pansy's breasts but slid down her body with her right hand, relishing the touch of the smooth skin and then moving down between her thighs.

Hermione wanted to be gentle, wanted to treat her like a queen and worship her but she was arching so needy into her touch, making a loud keening sound, begging her, so she didn't have a choice but to plunge her fingers between the wet lips, pushing two inside and rubbing the clit with her thumb.

Pansy's back grew taut, arching from the bed, her hands clutching Hermione's hair.

"Please... your mouth... fuck ..."

And she obliged.

Moving between Pansy's spread legs she bowed down to gently suck her clit between her lips and adding the third finger into the velvet heat. Pansy wasn't going to last long but she wanted her to be wound tighter still.

Taking time to establish rhythm, licking with her whole tongue, she felt how Pansy tightened her grip in her hair and judging from the muffled sound of her constant moans, she was biting her lips.

Hermione couldn't take it anymore herself. Angling her fingers inside Pansy, brushing against that spot, pushing the tip of her tongue under the hood of the clit, she knew that it would be enough to nudge her off the edge.

It was beautiful to see her arch high of the mattress, her muscles shaking, feeling her contracting around her fingers and scream her name. Definitely something that Hermione wanted to experience again. And again.

Pansy was lying still, her skin slippery to the touch as Hermione pulled herself up to see her face. Her eyes were closed and the lightest of smiles was playing on her lips and she simply couldn't resist kissing them.

"Thank you," Pansy whispered against her lips and now it was Hermione who smiled, knowing that soon enough Pansy would use her mouth to thank her properly.

-Fin  



End file.
